inhabitants for miles around that a letter has broken loose from the
letter-board. I had a vision of my envelop skimming wildly along the
coast-line, pursued by the old, but active, waiter and a breathless pack of
local worthies. I saw it outdistancing them all, dodging past
coast-guards, doubling on its tracks, leaping breakwaters, unluckily
injuring itself, losing speed, and at last, in a splendor of desperation,
taking to the open sea. But suddenly I had another idea. Perhaps Laider
had returned?

He had. I espied afar on the sands a form that was recognizably, by
the listless droop of it, his. I was glad and sorry--rather glad, because he
completed the scene of last year; and very sorry, because this time we
should be at each other's mercy: no restful silence and liberty for either of
us this time. Perhaps he had been told I was here, and had gone out to
avoid me while he yet could. Oh weak, weak! Why palter? I put on my
hat and coat, and marched out to meet him.

"Influenza, of course?" we asked simultaneously.

There is a limit to the time which one man may spend in talking to
another about his own influenza; and presently, as we paced the sands, I
felt that Laider had passed this limit. I wondered that he didn't break off
and thank me now for my letter. He must have read it. He ought to have
thanked me for it at once. It was a very good letter, a remarkable letter.
But surely he wasn't waiting to answer it by post? His silence about it
gave me the absurd sense of having taken a liberty, confound him!
He was evidently ill at ease while he talked. But it wasn't for me to help
him out of his difficulty, whatever that might be. It was for him to
remove the strain imposed on myself.